


Deep Snow Nine

by indigoiseau



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28742469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigoiseau/pseuds/indigoiseau
Summary: whole-heartedly a convenience plot inspired by that throwaway line about snow on the promenade in 'if wishes were horses'. just want to see all these guys wear scarves and mittens and be cute and play in the snow :^)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. Lockdown

**Author's Note:**

> Hope Baxter is an original character created by a friend of mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revised 1/25/21

“We’re looking at five or six centimeters down here,” Odo said into the comms. His eyes scanned the Promenade. “No signs of it stopping.”

Snowflakes upon snowflakes danced down from the upper rafters and had been doing so tirelessly for a good half hour. They gathered in heaps and crawled up the metal walls, hung off every shop window, stairstep, and curved rail along the way, neat and crunching under the boots of bewildered patrons and passerby.

Odo ought to have counted himself lucky. Many on the station had never seen such a sight for themselves, and so distracted by the wonder and novelty of it as they were, the bout of complaints he had expected to come with it had in fact been minimal. For the most part, business proceeded as usual.

Awaiting an answer from Ops, Odo spared a moment to look up into the stuff himself. It pricked him lightly in the face, coaxing a slight, rare smile from him before he was rudely interrupted.

As was traditional, of course, Quark was armed and ready with enough complaints for the rest of the station.

“It’s slowing business!” he cried, somewhere in the vicinity of Odo’s elbow. “It’s cold! Who wants to sit at the bar in the cold? I can see my breath, look--”

“I am  **_busy_ ** trying to solve it, Quark,” Odo brushed him off.

Quark soldiered on, “And to top it off, the steamer’s down! Wouldn’t a nice warm mug of raktajino just hit the pocketbook, right now?”

“I wouldn’t know,  **_Quark_ ** .”

“Of course you w--”

Just then, a low sound reverberated throughout the station and it shuddered unnervingly on its hinges.

“What was that?” Quark hunched as though the sound hurt his ears.

The disturbance was enough to elicit several startled cries -- someone in the distance even threw themselves to the ground.

“Odo to Ops. Ops, come in.”

No response. Odo moved to touch the communicator again, but it only fizzled static.

“Oh. That’s not good,” said Quark, to which Odo only grunted.

And then the power went out and plunged them all into darkness. Quark screeched sharply in surprise and Odo could feel him standing close.

For a moment, all Odo could hear was the sound of Quark’s startled breathing.

And then the emergency backup systems engaged, illuminating everything in an eerie red glow. Quark sighed with some measure of relief.

“You can let go of me now,” said Odo, and Quark, realizing his mistake, meekly complied.

A shape approached them: the baker, Hope Baxter, whose shop stood just around the corner from Quark’s.

“It’s not just the lights,” she said, waving to greet them. “Replicators are all down, too.” She cast a cursory glance over Quark when he wailed at the news. “Everyone all right?”

Odo nodded, “I’m afraid communications are also down.”

Doctor Bashir appeared beside Hope, squinting in the dark. “Odo? What’s going on? Comms are out.”

“So it would seem,” Odo sighed. He looked up again into the snow. “This means we have multiple systems down, although I don’t know yet to what extent. Environmental, communications, and now main power, at the very least...”

The doctor smiled with terse humor, looking between them all. “Well. Good thing I don’t have anyone on the operating table,” he joked, bouncing apprehensively on the balls of his feet.

They weren’t the only ones to show up. More and more of the station’s inhabitants seemed to appear out of the woodwork to see what was the matter; even at this distance, Odo could see Morn’s distinct form emerging from the bar, closely followed by Rom.

“Brother!!” Rom huffed and puffed his way to Quark’s side, but before he could begin, Quark cut him off.

“--I know, I know,” said Quark gruffly. “Don’t tell me, the drinks are on ice?”

Rom nodded. “Quark’s satisfaction guarantee means the current orders list is all on the house, and holosuite time doubled! When, uhh, the power’s back on, of course.” Rom grinned, sheepish.

Quark groaned. He never should have offered that guarantee in the first place, though it  _ had  _ brought in more Federation customers. “The things I do for these people,” said Quark, shaking his head.

“Well!” Odo began again. “I think that’s more than enough reason to close the Promenade until further notice--”

“--What!” Quark cut in. “You can’t do that!”

“--For everyone’s safety and well-being,” Odo carried on with a firm look angled largely at Quark. Even in the poor lighting, Quark swore he caught something smug in it. And then Odo turned to Julian. “Doctor? We’re going to need to find a way to reach Ops as soon as possible. I don’t think it’s outside the scope of the situation to consider sabotage.”

The doctor nodded grimly. His eyes fell on Quark and he hesitated, “Couldn’t we, ah, try the  **_back way_ ** in, via Quark’s? I don’t think the infirmary’s going to do us much good.”

“I resent the implication, Doctor,” grumbled Quark, but he looked to Rom all the same.

Rom shrugged. “Well, uh. I’d say it’s worth a try. Quark’s has its own routing system.” He looked up at the others. “We might be able to bypass whatever caused the shutdown.”

“DOCTOR!” a voice cut in. The group turned to find Garak hurrying toward them. He gripped Julian’s shoulder tightly, breathing heavy. “Doctor-- I don’t think I can take much more of this - this - this  _ Keldok _ -forsaken cold!”

Sure enough, a purple flush had risen to Garak’s cheeks and his hold on the doctor trembled visibly, even in the low light.

“Ah, cardassians aren’t built for this kind of temperature,” said Julian, turning back to Odo. “If it continues to drop, this is going to become an urgent problem, and not only for Garak.”

“It already is urgent!” said Garak. Quark nodded in agreement, hugging his sides.

And then the baker cleared her throat, “Erm. I might have a solution to the cold, at least temporarily.” She glanced between them all as the group’s attention shifted to her. “I, er - knit things. All kinds of things, actually. Scarves, hats, mittens… It’s not often I get to use them, but they do make nice gifts. And I’ve made-- a lot of them.” She laughed, struck shy by the understatement. “I think my roommates can attest to how many there are. Maybe I can start distributing them in the meantime?”

“An excellent plan, Miss Baxter!” Garak leapt in, teeth chattering. “And highly fashionable, I’m certain. I will admit, my own stock on this kind of accessory is limited, considering my clientele. I’ll go with you and help distribute them to anyone in need, if you don’t mind.”

Agreed, they went off toward the habitat ring.


	2. Lockout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a superfluous little scene - i wouldnt put it past garak to pull something as ridiculous as this

The doors leading to the habitat ring were all thoroughly sealed shut. And so Hope and Garak tried the next set, and the next, and the set after that, until they had gone nearly halfway around the ring to no avail. Garak was near to suggesting they head back toward the Promenade to see if there was anything else they could do, when they heard a voice come through from the other side.

Hope pressed her ear to the nearest panel, and Garak followed suit. They exchanged a look. A second voice had joined the first, but the sounds were still too indistinct to make out.

“Maybe we can let them know we’re here,” Hope breathed, and Garak nodded. “Hey!” She cried, and balled her fist hard against the door. “Hey, hello? Hey, we can hear you! We can hear you!”

They heard the voices drop off.

“Very effective!” Garak brightened. “Hold on, I have an idea.” He knocked against the door himself this time, following a specific, rhythmic pattern.

“I don’t know if they’ll recognize the code,” he explained, “But cardassian morse was used often enough during the Occupation, even amongst the bajorans, that I’d say there’s a chance.”

They paused, listening. And then a soft pounding on the door confirmed the message.

“Why, I believe it’s that dabo girl from the bar!” said Garak. “L-E-E-T-A. Leeta, yes. Perhaps approaching it from both sides will allow us to get through.”

Garak responded to Leeta’s code.

“Did she say who else is with her?” Hope asked.

“She says the captain’s son is with her. If I’m not mistaken, neither of them are especially well-versed in breaking through seals such as these, but it’s  _ amazing  _ what you can learn from a few good years’ worth of experience hemming pants. I’ll walk them through it.”

He leaned back and fixed Hope with that mysterious smile of his, a curiously long, silver sewing needle held aloft between his fingers.


	3. Lock Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody give Rom a break! Bring him hot slug juice or something.

“All right, settle down. Settle down, now.” Odo attempted to quiet the fairly substantial crowd that had gathered in the bar. Perhaps the little extra warmth and what food there was still available drew them in, but Odo suspected they were above all else eager to be among the first to hear from the captain.

Odo cleared his throat and a greater number of the crowd turned their faces toward him. “The situation is under control. As of right now, there is no immediate danger, though steps are being taken to ensure everyone’s safety. If you are especially sensitive to cold temperatures, please meet outside Garak’s Clothiers as soon as possible; you will be provided extra layers. Further, this establishment is currently closed for business until the situation is resolved--”

“--Odo!!” Quark hissed, looking slightly unhinged in the reddish emergency lighting. “Just because the replicators are down doesn’t mean I need to stop business! All we need to do is find a way to boil a little water, and we’ll have this place warmed up and hospitable in no time! In fact,” Quark turned to address his patrons, but they had already begun to disperse. “I humbly offer my establishment as a haven for anyone who wishes to sit tight until--”

“Quark. It’s closed,” Odo said flatly. “We need space to  **_operate_ ** here, and you’ve just volunteered.”

He watched as Quark puffed himself up to raise another round of objection, but a deep voice rumbled in from the entrance.

“Constable. Doctor.” Worf approached, presumably off the Defiant. “What is our current situation?”

“Glad you’re here,” said Julian. “Multiple systems down. We’ve been attempting to establish communications with Ops via Quark’s systems. If we fail, we may need to try the Defiant.”

“Unfortunately, the Defiant is locked out. I had just arrived there when power cut out.”

“Let’s bet on your systems then, Quark.” Odo shot the bartender a warning glance just to keep him on his toes.

Rom shot up from behind the bar. “How is Nog going to dock?” He looked around at the others, his breath caught with worry. “He’s supposed to come home this afternoon! But what if the systems are still down? What if we can’t communicate with him? What if--”

“One thing at a time, Rom,” urged Quark, eager to get business going again.

“I have to agree,” Odo said. “Focus on getting us through to Ops.”

Rom drew himself up in determination and got to work. It wasn’t long until he had restored regular lighting, at least for the bar and portions of the Promenade, but reaching Ops was proving to be much more difficult. Every time he thought he’d made a breakthrough, something else blocked his way.

Odo had begun to usher guests out of the bar, Quark discreetly sending several off with non-replicated orders. But it seemed that for every one person who went out to the Promenade, another one re-entered -- and soon the baker and the tailor had returned with several others in tow, including the captain’s son and the chief engineer’s wife. All were laden with armfuls of colorful, soft-knit things.

“You should have  **_seen_ ** the sheer number of woolen scarves and mittens this one has made,” Garak chattered excitedly, fondly pulling a thick green hat over the doctor’s ears. “Truly astonishing! Although it took quite the extra effort to get to them.”

“She knits when she’s stressed,” muttered one of the baker’s roommates beside them.

“There was trouble?” Odo, overhearing them, gave up on traffic control for the moment.

“Oh yes. The habitat ring was completely locked down!” Garak replied.

Hope joined them, watching Leeta snug Rom up with a particularly fluffy set of earmuffs. “Luckily, we were able to make it through the beta wing. Leeta and the rest helped from the other side.”

“I see.” Odo looked over at Jake and Keiko and Hope’s two roommates as they began to hand out all manner of brightly colored scarves and hats and mittens. But something was wrong. The situation was becoming increasingly suspicious by the minute in his book. “I highly doubt this is all coincidental.”

Worf, apparently, was on the same page. “Someone must be sabotaging our systems.”

Odo retreated into himself for a moment before he stepped in to loom over Rom’s shoulder. “Any progress?” he asked, and Rom, sputtering, said there had been none.

“Keep at it,” said Quark, joining them. His arms were crossed, much like a certain constable’s.

“I suggest we start a fire,” said Worf, determined not to shiver. The temperature had continued to decline and delicate frosts had begun to trace the edges of Worf’s moustache. Klingons weren’t built for this environment any more than cardassians, though Worf would staunchly point out that that was where the similarities ended.

Quark’s face rose. “Commander,” he said, bravely reaching up to pat Worf on the shoulder, “I think that’s the best idea I’ve ever heard you suggest!” to which Worf rolled his eyes.

“We might as well,” Julian agreed, looking wryly apologetic on Quark’s behalf. “It’ll help keep everyone happy until we can reach the captain. This may take some time yet.”

“And I’ll be back in business!” chirped a delighted Quark. He immediately set about collecting anything edible they could prepare by bonfire, leaving the rest of the preparation to the others.

“There is some fuel stored in the locker rooms, and we should be able to use bins to contain the fires,” said Odo. “We’ll set one up every ten meters or so around the ring, and... one here in Quark’s.” He shot a narrowed look at Quark. That little scoundrel should be so lucky.

Odo turned on his heel to be closely followed by Worf, but before they could so much as set foot back in the snow, they were stopped by several members of the scarf brigade.

“Now, now. Not so fast, constable,” Garak hummed, smoothly bundling up the changeling in several rounds of a shimmering, lavender silk scarf.

“Garak-- what?” Odo only had time to grumble. “This really isn’t n--”

But the cardassian shushed him and, to his virtue, Odo fell into tight-shouldered silence.

Worf, for his part, was left to Keiko’s mercy, soon peering out from under what seemed to him to be at least 15 pounds of polka-dotted pastel knittery, but he was, in fact, all too happy for the added warmth to complain.


	4. Lock and Load

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dukat's the last guy anybody wants to hear from in a pinch (or any time)

“Captain, I think we’ve got ahold of him.” Kira looked up from the console.

Sisko moved to join her. “Put him through. Chief?”

Laughter crackled through the comms in Ops. “Well done, Benjamin.” There was no mistaking that oozing, self-satisfied drawl, even under the weight of heavy static interference. Dukat was the **_last_ **person they had been hoping to hear from, and Kira and the captain exchanged a weary look with each other that said as much.

Dukat continued, “Oh, to think **_we_ **will be the ones to rescue you. It’s ironic, isn’t it? Our timing seems to be impeccable.”

“Dukat. What do you want?” Sisko made no effort to hide his irritation. At least visuals were still down and Operations did not have to be cursed with the sight of Dukat’s infuriating face.

It seemed Dukat was determined to take his time. “Well, you see, my colleague and I just so happened to be passing your way on our route to Cardassia, when we noticed the station’s usual outgoing signals were… quieter than usual.” Sisko could hear the smile in Dukat’s voice. “In fact, you didn’t show up on our maps at all! And we thought, being the kind and courteous neighbors that we are, that we should stop to investigate. We’re more than happy to lend a hand in a gesture of goodwill, Captain…”

“Now, now, Dukat,” came Weyoun’s simpering voice. “I’m quite certain they have everything under control. This is probably some standard Starfleet security test or drill. Isn't that so, Captain?”

“It’s none of your business,” replied the captain. “And we’re perfectly fine, thank you.”

Weyoun tittered excitedly. “Oh, what a relief to hear that. Of course, you know, if your systems **_were_ **down by some unfortunate circumstance, that would make you and all your people sitting ducks, now, wouldn’t it? I’m sure if that were the case, you’d keep us foremost in mind, knowing we would do everything in our power to arrange some offer of assistance.”

“We’ll be fine without it,” Sisko said again. Dax joined him and the major, looking over their shoulders.

“Very well, Benjamin,” Dukat sighed. “You know how to reach us… and **_only_ **us, it would appear.”

The communication ended. Sisko rubbed at his temple.

“We **_have_ **to reach the Chief,” Dax reminded him. “If anyone can break us out of these lockouts in a reasonable timeframe, he can.”

None of them had any intention of taking Dukat’s taunt to heart.

“Agreed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to wrangle myself into writing longer things / writing fic in general by slapping down as many words as I can, enjoy the journey!


End file.
